


Inseparable

by SilverFountains



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Declarations Of Love, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, True Love, Young Dwalin, Young Thorin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 14:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3732265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/SilverFountains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Thorin finds that he has feelings for his best friend and does not know what to do with them. Fortunately Dwalin is not quite so shy ...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble because I wanted to write some Dworin for me <3  
> Smut in part 2 lol

_What is wrong with me?_

Thorin sighs huffily as his body is playing tricks on him again. Dwalin and he had grown up together. All five of them, the three children of Thrain and the two sons of Fundin, had been close all their lives, but between Thorin and Dwalin there always had been a special bond. They had been practically inseparable as dwarflings, always getting up to mischief together deep in the depths of Erebor. As they became older they took all their important life steps as dwarrow together; forging their first weapons, learning to wield sword and axe. They were matched in strength, sparring and wrestling together whenever Thorin’s duties would allow him time to himself. They roamed the old parts of the kingdom, always searching for new adventure, for hidden treasures, for the little bit of fun that the crown prince and his guard were allowed.

Now he is thirty seven years old and almost a fully matured dwarf. And although he is proud of the way his body has broadened, his beard his grown full and long and the courtiers of his grandfather are starting to treat him like an heir to the throne rather than a mischievous dwarfling, Thorin had been feeling very uncomfortable in his maturing shape of late.

“Are y’alright?”

Dwalin raises one of his thick eyebrows at his best friend as he watches Thorin fidget uncharacteristically.

Thorin does not dare look up. No he is not alright. He has not been alright for weeks now. And each day and night seems to be worse than the previous. He blinks at the runes before him, unable to make any sense. Once more he feels all hot and sweaty and jittery and he does not like it one bit.

“Thorin?”

“What?!” he snaps, banging his flat hand on the desk, making Dwalin jump back. “I am …” He shoves back his chair. He wants to say _I am fine_ , but he really isn’t and he knows it will not wash with his friend. “I just need to be on my own for a while,” he snarls and storms out of the study room, leaving Dwalin staring after him dumbfounded.

He has a hard time not to run down the long halls towards his chambers, but he knows that behaviour no longer befits him now that he is almost of age. He bites the inside of his cheek as he tries to keep composed, keep his regal composure. Finally! He reaches his quarters and dashes inside.

He throws himself face down on his bed, clawing his hands in the furs in frustration. The friction from the motion against his crotch feels remarkably good and he cannot help but grind his hips down with purpose this time. He feels the now familiar throb in his breeches and longs to reach inside and relief himself from this unbearable pressure.

 _Dwalin?! No, Thorin, just no!_ He groans in frustration as his body argues with his mind. Every night for he cannot even think how long all he has been able to think about is that muscular body, those bright eyes, the deepening voice … wanting … _No!_

He almost yelps when there is a loud knock on his door. _Damn! No!_ He does not have to guess who has dared to follow him and of all the people Dwalin is the one he needs to see least right now. Not in this damn state!

“Thorin? Thorin are you in there?”

 _Go away! Just …_ Thorin sighs, knowing that Dwalin will not, neither as his friend and certainly not as his guard. He pulls the blankets up against him as he rolls himself onto his side. “I am fine, just … just … I will be out in a ….”

Before he can even finish his sentence Dwalin has crashed into his room and is frowning at him. “What’s going on? What’s with ya running  away like that?”

Thorin can feel the flush run into his cheeks and wishes he could just hide under the blankets. “I … I’m not feeling very well …” he lies. He knows it is a rather stupid thing to say. Their people do not suffer ill health quickly and the remark is bound to make his friend worry even more.

“What d’ya mean?” Dwalin sits himself heavily on the bed, far too close for comfort for Thorin. “Ya seemed fine to me earlier.”

“Just leave it, alright,” Thorin groans, really desperately wanting for his friend not to be so close. He feels like he is itching all over, like his hands have a mind of their own as they are aching to reach out and run over those bulky muscles. He pulls the blankets up even further, knowing his breeches are bulging visibly now.

“Look, Thorin, ya don’t need to get all short with me!” Dwalin growls back. “Ya have been behaving all odd these last few days and I don’t like it one wee bit!” He narrows his eyes at his friend and leans closer to him. “Now tell me what is wrong or I will shake it out of ya!”

Thorin gasps audibly as he can feel Dwalin’s breath brush his face. _Oh sweet Mahal …_

He has no idea what madness possesses him when he suddenly moves himself up to close the space between their lips.

“Tho…” Dwalin’s eyes blow open wide as his best friend crashes their lips together awkwardly.

Thorin feels his cheeks glow hot as he realises what he has just done and he rolls himself in a ball. “S-sorry. I don’t know what came over me … I …. Just … Go … Please.” He buries his head deeper in the pillows, just wanting the mountain to swallow him up. He waits for the weight of his friend to hastily disappear of his bed and when he feels the shift in the mattress he almost breathes a sigh of relief.

“That was nice.”

Dwalin grins a wicked grin at his friend as he peels the blankets away from him.

“That … was?” Thorin blinks hard in confusion.

“Aye. Wanna do it again?”

Thorin actually feels completely lost for words. “I … er…” Before he can say any more his breath is cut short as Dwalin presses his mouth onto his again. For a moment he is so shocked that he almost fights his friend off, but as Dwalin pins him beneath him he allows himself to relax just a little.

_Feels nice. His lips … so much softer than they look!_

When Dwalin pulls back they stare at each other silently for a moment.

“You … we …” Thorin brushes his thumb across his lips, feeling the pleasant imprint of that kiss still there.

“Did you like that?” Dwalin beams, rolling himself next to Thorin now and just grinning widely.

Thorin cannot even answer that question. _No, I should not! But … YES!_ He nods shyly. “I am sorry. It is not appropriate.”

“Bull to appropriate!” Dwalin snorts. “Since when have ya done appropriate?!”

Thorin cannot help but laugh softly at that.  “So … what does this mean? Do you … Have you …?”

“Blimey, Thorin, you are never this tongue tied. I’d think you’ve never kissed someone before!” His eyes grow wide again as he takes in Thorin’s flushed expression. “No! Ya … Thorin! Ya’ve never …?”

“With whom?!” Thorin snarls back, feeling embarrassed now. “I’m Thror’s grandson!” He narrows his eyes at his friend, angry as made to look like such an inexperienced dwarfling. “H-have you …?” he feels an ugly sting in his stomach as he says it.

Dwalin shrugs. “Just a few times. But I’ve wanted to kiss with you for ages. Just didn’t think ya wanted to …”

“Me?” Thorin’s eyes bulge in surprise. “Why?”

At that Dwalin laughs heartily. “Ya’re a right dumb goat sometimes, Thorin. Because I like ya. Damn, Thorin, I though ya knew how I feel about ya…”

“Feel … about me? Like … what?”

“Like …” Dwalin hesitates for a moment. Thorin is his best friend. And he is also his superior, his prince. But equally if he ever wants anything to happen between them he realises now that waiting for Thorin to make the first move is not going to get them anywhere. “Like … I want to kiss you … and touch you …” he whispers softly, daring to let his large hand slide down Thorin’s arm and onto the curve of his hip. He can feel his friend shudder under his touch and for a moment he thinks he will lamp him as he brings his hand to his face.

“I … want that too …” Thorin whispers so quietly Dwalin barely hears it. Then that hand is caressing his cheek, gently, hesitantly.

Dwalin shuffles himself a little closer. Thorin seems accepting of his advances and he is determined to make the most of it. He has had these feelings for Thorin for so long now, but as he had had no indication that his friend felt the same in return he had kept them to himself, not wanting to ruin their friendship, not wanting to offend the crown prince. “You are such a fine dwarf, Thorin,” he says softly, letting his hand slide across Thorin’s back and over the soft curves of his buttocks. His yearning for his prince is pulsing through him now and he wants to be so much closer to Thorin.

Thorin can feel the blush spread from his face all down his neck and chest. “Thanks.” It sounds silly and he fidgets again. The touch of those strong hands so tenderly on his body feels so very good and he leans into his friend again, wanting to taste those lips again and so much more.

As soon as their lips engage again the rest seems to come naturally this time. They each part their lips a little and Thorin sticks out his tongue a little, both surprised and delighted when he feels Dwalin’s tongue greet him.  It feels odd at first and Thorin is not sure if he likes that wet slimy feeling at first, but as Dwalin wraps his arms around him and pulls him in closer he lets go and sinks deep into that warm mouth, daring to enjoy that play of their tongues. And daring to push the blankets away and press himself against his friend.

“You!” His eyes spring open when he feels his friend’s hard on rubs against his own.

“What?!” Dwalin pulls back in shock. He groans when Thorin pulls away from him and grabs his hand. “Thorin, damn it, will you just relax! You clearly like this cuz by Mahal’s beard your sword is poking me alright!”

Thorin’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “My sw … Dwalin!”

Dwalin’s eyes sparkle with glee as he rolls Thorin onto his back and pins him underneath him again. “Oh, I like it that ye’r such a blushing virgin,” he grins.

“Don’t you dare!”

“Dare what?” Dwalin pushes his crotch down against Thorin’s, his bulge being greeted by his prince’s eager erection. “Tell me that ya don’t like it.”

“I …” Thorin turns his head to the side and groans. Then he looks back into the clear blue eyes of his best friend. “Have you …”

“Fucked?”

“Damn!”

“No.”

Thorin stares at Dwalin in surprise. The way his friend had been up till now he had expected to hear that he had been around a few times already. “No?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Oh? You sound disappointed?”

“No!” Thorin flushes again but then smiles. “I – I am glad.”

“Glad?” Dwalin leans down again and presses another soft wet kiss on his friend’s lips. “For why?” he grins cheekily.

Thorin shrugs. “So I don’t feel like such an inexperienced dwarfling,” he says softly.

“You want to do it?”

“You orc, no!” Thorin wrestles with his slightly taller friend, managing to push him off eventually and he rolls himself off the bed.

“Why not?”

“Why … D-do you?” Thorin asks him incredulously.

Dwalin rests himself onto his back and just smiles at Thorin, not responding, just looking at his handsome friend.

“Can we just kiss again?” Thorin asks carefully after a moment.

“Course we can. Come here.” Dwalin grabs Thorin’s hand and pulls him back into his arms. “We can kiss for as long as you want. But only if ya promise me ya’ll talk to me when ya want something. Promise?”

“I promise,” Thorin smiles and locks his lips with Dwalin again, relishing in all these new sensations that make him buzz from head to toe. _Could we really …? If it has to be anyone, then I would want it to be him,_ Thorin thinks to himself as he gives in to the deeply passionate kiss that now feels so comfortable already.


	2. Chapter 2

They had fooled around for nigh a moon cycle. Kissing had quickly become their favourite past time, becoming more passionate, more confident each time. But Thorin had held back. Dwalin understood that. Thorin was still the second in line to the throne. The prince courting his personal guard would be frowned upon by many, even if Dwalin was a descendant of the royal line himself. The expectation would be for Thorin to take a dwarrowdam, to continue the royal line once he was of age and bind himself to a worthy consort. They both knew this and it meant that Thorin was careful not to lose himself in a relationship that he could not honour in time.

Nonetheless they are lying on Thorin's bed once more, kissing almost lazily, pushing gently against each other. Thorin had initiated this intimate moment as he often did now. And Dwalin was happy to oblige, to let their tongues dart into each other's mouths, tasting the now familiar taste.

“Why are you frowning?”

Dwalin is shaken out of his thoughts by his friend’s deep voice when they break the kiss. He shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”

He is surprised when Thorin suddenly pins him underneath him, straddling his broad frame with his firm thighs. “Are you bored of me?” Thorin brings their lips together again, just sharing their breath, brushing ever so gently.

“Bored? No! Why do ya say that?”

Thorin shrugs. “Bored of just kissing…?”

“No. I understand,” Dwalin sighs. “You are Thorin II, heir to the throne of Durin. I …”

"Touch me."

Dwalin finds his sentence die on his tongue as he looks into Thorin's soft blue eyes. "Ya wha?"

"Touch me," Thorin grins, grinding his hips down against Dwalin's privates.

Dwalin tentatively puts his hand on Thorin’s hip.

Thorin groans. “Not there …” He grabs Dwalin’s hand and moves it purposefully onto his hard on in his breeches, rubbing himself into the palm of Dwalin's hand.

Dwalin stares at his own hand as if Thorin has just handed him the Arkenstone. When he raises his eyes from between his friend's thighs to look at his face he feels his own prick throb even more excitedly at the look of pleasure on Thorin's face.

“Nice …” Thorin moans softly, bucking his hips a little more, seeking friction. He leans forward and bites into his lover's beard, pulling softly at it between his teeth whilst runs his hand through the thick hair on the top of his friend’s head.

Dwalin groans in agreement. “Yes. Nice.” He pushes his own hips up to meet Thorin's grinding, meeting the bulge of his rod with his own.

"Want it to be nicer still," Thorin smiles. He pushes himself upright again and pulls his tunic up over his head.

"Hmm, _very_ nice," Dwalin mumbles as his eyes glide over Thorin’s muscular body; sleeker than his own, but equally strong. Dark hair caressing his broad chest. Trailing down his taut stomach to thicken above the band of his breeches.

“Like what you see?”

“Aye …” Dwalin gulps, caressing every inch of his lover with his bright eyes, letting them linger on the outline of his cock. "Want to see more," he dares to say thickly.

Thorin smiles back cheekily as he pulls at the lacing of his breeches. “Let’s do it.”

Dwalin feels his eyes grow wide. “Do … _it_ …?” he asks unsurely, hesitant as to whether he has understood Thorin correctly.

Thorin nods. “Yes. _Mahmamrili_.”

Dwalin takes a sharp intake of breath. His immediate reaction is to ask Thorin if he is sure, to say that he is alright if Thorin wants to wait, that he does not need to do this for him if he does not feel ready yet. But he swallows all those words as Thorin lets his breeches fall open and pulls out his thick hard sword. “Oh Mahal!” 

Thorin rolls himself off his friend, wriggling himself out of his clothes fully. “You too,” he orders his still clothed lover.

Dwalin nods but his limbs have suddenly frozen. A lot of questions race through his head. He is not normally the one to think rather than do; he tends to leave the thinking to his friend. But this is huge! Not only is he about to lose his own virginity, he is also about to take Thorin’s, the heir of Durin. He feels the weight of responsibility suffocate him and it is not making for the best erotic setting.

“Dwalin!” Thorin growls in his ear as the larger dwarf has made no move to get undressed, lost in his thoughts. He frowns at his friend. “What is the matter? Do you … not want to?” He suddenly feels his boldness evaporate as he feels enormously exposed in his nakedness before his best friend. _I thought he wanted to …!_ He already reaches for his shirt again, regretting his recklessness.

Dwalin grabs Thorin’s hand, stopping him. “Wait! I do! It’s just …”

“What?”

“I am nervous,” Dwalin says softly, blushing a little.

“Me too,” Thorin grins. He would never admit this to anyone else. But Dwalin knows all the secrets of his heart, including all his uncertainties. “But I want to.” And he moves his hand down Dwalin’s body and cups his crotch, massaging his hardness firmly.

Dwalin groans in surprised delight. “Me too… Damn, Thorin, alright, let’s do this.” He pulls his own tunic off in one easy motion and yanks at the laces of his breeches.

They had seen each other naked a million times before. But today everything is different. Thorin teasingly stretches his arms above his head, showing off all of himself to his best friend. The past few weeks had given him back his confidence. He knows now what he wants and he is no longer fighting it.

“ _Abnâmul …”_

Thorin grins at the compliment, sounding so odd from Dwalin’s rough tongue. He crawls back into his lover’s arms, seeking those soft lips under that coarse facial hair again. “Hmm,” he hums happily as Dwalin wraps his arms around his naked body. Lying together like this, feeling heated skin on heated skin, feels better even than he had dreamt. He can feel Dwalin’s hard shaft press against his thigh and grinds his own against Dwalin’s skin in turn.

Their tongues entwine passionately again and Thorin closes his eyes as he sinks into all that heat. _This feels so good!_ Already he is losing himself in their foreplay, feeling his cock slick against his lover’s skin.

He is somewhat surprised when Dwalin pulls him on top of him, spreading his legs wide and pulling them up a little. Their lips break apart and they look deep into each other’s eyes, both showing the reflection of anxious anticipation and desperate need.

“You want me to …?” Thorin asks, his voice rasping both with nerves and heat.

“Aye. If you …”

Thorin nods slowly, almost reverently. He awkwardly shuffles himself so that his cockhead kisses its goal between Dwalin’s cheeks; that sensation alone almost enough to make him spill quite prematurely.

“Oil …” Dwalin gasps as he feels the first pressure against his most private place. That much he knew, that much his brother had told him. With a dam it was not necessary, Balin had said. But if he wanted to lay with a buck … “Make sure you use plenty of oil or you will come to regret it, brother,” he had winked, throwing a small skin of the viscous substance at him. He grapples for his discarded breeches and pulls said item from his belt, handing it to Thorin.

“Yes. Of course.” Thorin feels himself blush at his inexperience. No-one had told him what to do. He was the eldest sibling and the king’s grandson. His education would have to come from personal exploration and what his friend’s would reveal to him. He takes the oil and skin and uncorks it, hesitating for a moment on exactly what to do with it, however.

“Allow me, _uzbad_ _ê_ ,” Dwalin smirks, taking the oilskin back and pouring the thick liquid into the palm of his hand. He reaches down between them and without further ado wraps his large hand around Thorin’s pulsing hot sword.

Thorin hisses under the sudden touch. “ _Kun!_ Mm…” he throws back his head, his long black hair tickling the skin of his back. He had spent so many nights wanking himself silly of late and yet this touch of his lover’s hand surpasses anything he had been able to give himself.

Dwalin grins at Thorin, mesmerised by the pleasurable reaction, by being allowed to touch him like this. He hastily rubs a little oil over his entrance and then pulls Thorin back into a sloppy kiss. “Please … _malithe.”_

They fumble, both inexperienced, both high on heat. As soon as Thorin pushes against that pink rose again, Dwalin gasps. “Â! Aish!”  

Thorin stills, shocked by Dwalin’s cry of discomfort. But oh, that hold on his tip, that muscle clenching around his cockhead … It takes all his strength of mind not to push harder, further, wanting to feel that along his whole length.

“Alright …” Dwalin whisper, slowly opening his eyes again, trying to relax. “Further.”

“Feels good …” Thorin groans softly, rolling his hips again.

Dwalin groans as Thorin moves again, the pressure flaring inside his channel. He is not sure about this at all. It does not feel good, rather uncomfortable and almost painful. But just as he is about to cry out again when his rim is stretched to what feels like tearing point, his body seems to accept the alien intrusion and relax around that hot shaft sliding deeper inside him.

“Mm ... “ Thorin moans, stilling again, resting down in Dwalin’s arms, just feeling that heat around his cock. They are joined. They are making love. The enormity of that thought throbs through his veins. “ _Albithi mê_ …”  

Dwalin cannot help but grin at those sweet words from his friend. The discomfort is settling now, slowly making way for pleasure which blooms deep inside his belly. _Thorin is inside me! We are actually doing this!_ He wants to feel all of his lover now, wants to feel him move inside him, wants to feel him climax! “Move, _zebdarê_ ,”   

Amazing. Delightful. Hot! No amount of self-pleasure or even rutting against his pillows could have prepared the prince for this feeling. That scorching heat wrapped so tight around his sensitive shaft, squeezing so perfectly.

Dwalin had had the privilege of seeing Thorin as few got to see him; adventurous, cheeky, reckless even at times. But never like this. Never so completely unkempt, lost in pleasure, eyes blown wide with lust, muscles rolling under his heated skin. Seeing that fire in Thorin's face sends sparks through him. _It's because of me. I'm giving him this pleasure!_ he think happily and slowly he rocks up to meet his friend's thrusts.

"Mahal.... " Thorin whimpers softly when their bodies are beginning to move in unison. Each roll of their hips sends a little explosion of pleasure to his loins, building up to something much bigger, much better still!

As the temperature in the royal bedroom soars the noises between the two young dwarrow bucks become deep throated grunts, moaned utterances of pleasure that can no longer be expressed in any civilised tongue.

Sweat is running down the prince's back. His eyes widen even further and then fall closed in ecstasy as his peak blooms inside his friend.

Dwalin stares at Thorin's face in awe. He thinks his friend had never looked more handsome than he does right then, face slightly flushed, eyelids fluttering softly, mouth a little open as he moans his release, his pelvis quivering between his own thighs, that pumping motion inside him now erratic ..  And then still.

"That... That was... " Thorin breathes heavily, sinking down into Dwalin's embrace. He needily searches for Dwalin's lips again,  just wanting to be together as one for as long as possible.

Dwalin allows his eyes to close as he leans into the passionate kiss. That fullness inside him is slowly subsiding as his lover softens somewhat.

"Did you like that?" Thorin whispers against his lips.

"Yes. I think so," Dwalin answers carefully.

Thorin pulls away in an instance, frowning. "You think so?"

"It's... A wee bit weird. Quite uncomfortable at first. But then it felt nice." He smirks, "And seeing ya come was very nice." He brushes Thorin's wild locks back, smiling at him.

"Do it to me," Thorin says determinedly.

"Ya what now?"

"I want to feel what it's like for you. Fuck me," Thorin orders.

"Now?" Dwalin raises his eyebrows. He really had not expected that request.

"Yes now!" Thorin laughs. And before Dwalin had a chance to ask any more questions the black haired prince has pulled out of him and straddles him again, grabbing for his cock.

"Oil!" he warns, now understanding Balin's advice all too well. The thought of having done that without the lubricant makes him wince.

But Thorin is already on the case, slicking him generously before he lines up Dwalin's cockhead with his entrance and begins to lower himself down.

Dwalin gasps as his shaft is pulled into that tight hot channel. He is impressed by how well Thorin takes him in, biting his lip as he is stretched wide but only hesitating for the briefest moment, before he sheaths himself fully onto his friend's thick sword.

"Ya.. Okay?" Dwalin pants when he bottoms out inside his lover.

Thorin nods, grimacing slightly. "Durin's beard, so full!" he groans, but then seems to pull himself together and he begins to rock slowly.

"M-Mahal... " Dwalin whimpers. _That's incredible! So tight. Damn, he is good at this, oh...... Mmm._ The bigger dwarf rolls his pelvis a little to meet Thorin's movements, but his royal lover needs little help from him as he seems to enjoy himself rather a lot, bouncing energetically up and down Dwalin's cock, his low growls seemingly indicating that he's enjoying himself.

The fact that Thorin is clearly getting pleasure from this too is allowing Dwalin to relax and enjoy himself also. He shoves his hands under Thorin's buttocks, lifting him higher, pounding him harder.

"Yes, yes!" Thorin's curly hair bounces around vigorously, as does his now semi hard prick, leaving a slick trail on Dwalin's abdomen. "Come in me, Dwalin," he orders his lover, grinning widely.

Dwalin had always prided himself in his loyalty to Thorin’s demands and he needs no further prompting. He bellows as the best orgasm he's ever felt envelopes him, sending shivers all up his spine as he pumps his seed into his eager lover. "Thorin!" he wails, his blunt fingers digging bruises into Thorin's skin.

"Oh yes!" Thorin shouts too, pounding himself down once more, before his legs are turning to jelly and he collapses heavily onto his lover again.

"Fuck.... " Dwalin groans as he slips from that heat when Thorin moves.

His lover chuckles. "Damn right we did!"

"That was awesome!" Dwalin feels the grin almost split his face. "You are a beast, Thorin!"

The prince huffs but smiles anyway as he buries his face in the hollow of Dwalin's neck, drinking in his horny scent. "I liked that," he says softly, fingers teasing down Dwalin's chest. "All of it. A lot!"

"Me too," Dwalin agrees. And he just has to say it. " _Amrali m_ _ê_."  

Thorin looks up in surprise and blinks for a moment, then smiles. He kisses Dwalin long and soft. "I love you too, my brother. My lover." He rolls onto his back and beams at the ceiling, searching for his lover's hand. "Thank you." He turns his head and smiles at Dwalin again. "I'm so glad you were my first."

"And only?" Dwalin says it before he has thought it through. "Sorry, that was out of order. I know that ya …”

"Yes," Thorin grins kissing his lover again. " _Amral_ _ê izul._ ”  

“Thorin, no,” Dwalin shakes his head, regretting his words. He knows that that cannot be. Thorin will marry a dwarrowdam soon after his coming of age. He has to as the heir to the throne, to continue the line of Durin.

But Thorin seals his lips with his own again and places Dwalin’s hand on his chest. “ _Ni kurd_ _ê_. _Hikhthuzul.”_

 

++++

 

Thorin never believed in fate. But that declaration held true until the day he died. For when Smaug came soon after their worlds changed forever. Much grief and hardship followed that catastrophe. Losses beyond measure. Neither were ever the same thereafter. Thorin bore the weight of the lost kingdom of the dwarves and Dwalin too wore the scars of the past throughout their decades of exile.

They saw less of each other as the years passed, as Thorin disappeared for years on end, to search for his father, for a way back home. Over time Dwalin’s lost his mohawk and silver appeared in Thorin’s hair. And the dream to return to the royal chambers where they first declared their love for each other became ever more distant.

But whenever they did meet again and lay in each other’s arms, drunk from the aftermath of their lovemaking, they always smiled that same smile, remembering their first time.

 _“Amrale izul,”_ Thorin would promise Dwalin.

“ _Ni kurde, hikhthuzul.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mahmamrili = Let us make love together  
> Abnâmul = Beautiful  
> uzbadê = my lord  
> Kun! = Yes!  
> malithê = my (new) pleasure  
> Â! Aish! = Ah! Ouch!  
> Albithi mê = I adore you  
> zebdarê = my (supreme) lord  
> Amrali mê = I love you  
> Amralê izul = my only love  
> Ni kurdê. Hikhthuzul. = In my heart. Always.


End file.
